Been Different If
by ChronicallyinFlaming
Summary: Written for dragonkink meme. AU. Rather than Goku promising to marry Chi-Chi, Bulma ends up with him. And Vegeta ends up married to a certain princess. Gohan/Goten and Trunks/Bra still exist, but with different parents. Goku/Bulma, Vegeta/Chi-Chi.


**The prompt:**

**Okay, guys, remember the part in DragonBall where Goku admits to ChiChi he had no flippin' clue what marriage was when he made that particular childhood promise-but he married her anyway?**

**Yeah. In this AU, that never happened. And since TVTropes mentioned that Bulma had feelings for Goku during the World Tournament, and hints she liked him beyond that...this particular anon would love you forever if you showed her how the show would have been different if Bulma had ended up with Goku. Be detailed, or just take one or two moments-go nuts!**

**Bonuses:**

**- Vegeta somehow ends up with Chi-Chi. (I don't care if A Wizard Did It, but again-go nuts if you want!)**  
><strong>- Chi-Chi and Bulma still have GohanGoten and Trunks/Bra, respectively. What sort of timeline adjustments would happen, and what relationship dynamics would change?**

**The fill:**

* * *

><p>She felt nothing but grim pleasure watching the police take him away, even when they pulled out the cuffs and pushed his head down into the back of their car, mashing down that hair that no one could tame, even her. Seeing him drive away almost made her feel smug, imagining him in the county jail with god only knew what type of people. The scandal of the arguably most famous martial artist (and who, after all, had pushed him to continue competing and getting him those contracts to do all those commercials? Her, that's who) in the continent and the most famous, beautiful CEO of the most famous corporation in the world? Oh well.<p>

Goku had to learn his lesson for messing with her stuff.

He couldn't just wander into her lab and start breaking machinery. That was how she made her living; that was how she paid for all the food he ate.

But when her children came in, the children of the man she'd just had thrown into jail, Bulma felt herself losing it. Tears came to her eyes watching them pass around mashed potatoes like nothing was wrong, oh god, they didn't even know yet. So innocent, with their bright heads faced towards their dishes, with food flying up in a cloud and some of it splattering unnoticed on their faces, like freckles.

She was an awful a mother and wife. Look at them, with their pale skin they'd gotten from their Daddy, the wide blue eyes and exotic hair they'd gotten from her side of the family. That appetite and eating habits, all her poor Goku.

Then she saw Goku, over and over again, leaning into the back of the squad car with his head carefully lowered. Looking so tame instead of a being that could crush the car and the people inside without more than a single hand. So what if he'd destroyed another robot with a shrug and a sheepish grin, did that really deserve her to call the cops on her own husband? The savoir of the universe? So what if he sometimes would try and disappear without telling her? Not like she wouldn't go right out to find them, kids sitting beside her in the aircar with their crayons and coloring books.

Only the barest restraint kept her from bawling at the dining room table with her kids looking on and her parents wandering in. When her mother asked, vaguely, where that 'Goku dear' was, Bulma had to hightail it out of the room completely.

In her room, in their room, she lost it completely. "Oh god."

She knew she didn't deserve relief of any kind, so she didn't call Krillin and/or Juuhachigou yet. The blonde woman would laugh before finally offering a word or two of kindness and advice, and Krillin would just sigh and go look for another lawyer or bail officer, telling Bulma that she really, really shouldn't do this stuff.

Instead, she found herself dialing a number to an address much further east.

That bastard Vegeta picked up the phone on its ninth ring, yelling behind him at Gohan 'to get his head out of that book before his glasses fell straight off his head' and at Goten 'to _get off_', then at Bulma for calling 'what the hell do you want now?'

She rolled her eyes, making faces at the receiver despite her own emotional pain. He still acted like he was some high and mighty prince rather than a tiny angry man living in Hicksville with a wife that screamed at him over all the stupid stuff he would forget to do. How could you be a member of such a technologically advanced race, live with Chi-Chi for several years, and still forget to wipe your shoes on the mat outside?

"And do you think I've forgotten what ridiculous names you've given my children? Why can't you have just settled for screwing up your own offspring?"

Like Chi-Chi hadn't loved those names, opting for them in a slightly drugged out heartbeat over Vegeta's own choices of 'Vegeta' and 'Zucchini'."Yeah, yeah."

She amused herself imagining him wearing a farmer's outfit, complete with overalls and a corn husk hanging from his mouth, hauling his dark-haired and -eyed children around the large farm he and Chi-Chi had grown and expanded upon. Him on a tractor, oh yes. Vegeta wielding a pitchfork however, was a horrifying image.

Seeing him with those kids though, that wasn't imaginary. They always seemed to be hanging on him, a book or plastic animal stuffed under one of their arms while their Daddy carried them around all professionally and without sentiment. The father acted like a lawyer and the child his nice leather suitcase on their way to court.

No one dared tease Vegeta over it. And especially didn't comment on it when Chi-Chi was around. Little Gohan and littler Goten seemed completely unaware how remarkable their relationship was with the sociopathic little man they called 'Daddy.'

From the sound of things, Chi-Chi was finally tearing the phone out of her husband's hands. "Get away. I told you not to answer the phone; you can't even take a message."

"You do not tell me what to do!"

"Oh, yes I do. Now go put Goten down for his nap. Now. NOW!"

Bulma curled the phone cord around one finger. "How do you stand him?"

The other woman's voice was all casual, the voice of a woman who knew that her husband would not have to fight over pudding cups and trade cigarettes to make sure he was not shanked that night. "We have our ups and down. He's not so bad. Once the kids aren't hanging off him, and things are quiet, he can even be sweet. And when it's just us-"

"Let's not go into that territory."

"Aw. Did Goku forget how to do it, again?"

"Shut up! It was just the one time! And it was after he'd sustained brain damage. From _your_ spouse."

There was a soft laugh. "I don't know how _you_ do it."

"Well. It's not easy. Goku's a nice guy…"

"But?"

"He destroys everything he touches! And Yamcha doesn't even pretend to be jealous over us anymore; now he's just relieved. Or sad. Everyone always takes his side, and says I go overboard. I swear, whenever someone stops by, they see me yelling at him. Like they have it timed. If I didn't know that Goku literally cannot remember phone numbers, I would think he calls them.

"Especially Krillin. I swear, that short bastard and that wife that immediately bounced back after having her baby are always here defending and hiding Goku. If he ends up seeing me in rollers and my bathrobe telling my husband off one more time-

"Maybe he has them on speed dial…? Could he be that conniving, Chi-Chi? Does he have that in him?

"Anyway. I finally snapped. But maybe I shouldn't talk about it."

"What? You can tell me. God knows I've called you for advice and dealing with Vegeta. "

"Yeah." Bulma tried to keep her cringing out of her voice. It was hard not to forget those calls. How they'd started off like something in a horror movie 'oh, oh, god I think he's in the HOUSE! _YOU STAY AWAY FROM ME_!' to 'He won't leave. Even when I hit him with things' to 'Um, he brought me flowers. And he still won't leave. What's my next move on this?' to 'how would one go about asking a guy to marry you?' to finally, 'so I think I'm pregnant.'

Bizarre really, and more than once Bulma wondered if it was loneliness breaking her, but not enough to respond to Krillin's small crush on the dark-haired woman, or some type of Stockholm Syndrome. And Vegeta, what about him? How he'd started acting weird around Chi-Chi, even weirder when he found out she was a princess, and oh god, that drunken phone call Goku had told her about where Vegeta had asked him how to woo a woman.

'And what did you say,' Bulma had asked, looking over soldering equipment in the small tray resting on the covers besides her in bed.

Goku had shrugged, looking much too manly for his striped boxers and the way he was flossing intensely in the mirror. 'Dunno. Told him to act nice to her.'

'That's really helpful. She probably wants a guy to sweep her off her feet. Someone strong enough to beat her in training.'

'Uh. But she didn't like Krillin, and he could do those things. Except maybe the sweeping part, since she's taller than him.'

'Stop being so literal. And I think she's probably into taller guys, ones with hair.'

'Oh. Okay. So she'll like Vegeta?'

'Maybe?'

Goku looking over a pale huge shoulder. 'Aw. They'd be kinda cute together. Angry little kids running around.'

Their kids seemed mild-mannered enough (although to be fair Vegeta and Chi-Chi did look kind of cute together) though, and arguable nicer than Trunks and Bra. _Those_ two had recently learned that their father signed everything without looking, including papers and report cards and wills. Gohan and Goten had a healthy enough respect for their kids, except for all the neediness and clinging that neither Vegeta or Chi-Chi did much to discourage.

So weird those two. The only ones to hook up in their group that were even stranger were Juuhachigou and Krillin, who'd met when the android had gone out to chase after Goku and instead eventually ended up married with a kid and living at Kame house with the best friend of the guy she'd been programmed to murder.

Bulma imagined the slim woman just waking up on the porch with one of Master Roshi's tropical drinks by her side, dirty magazines under the beach chair, a ring on her hand and an adorable baby girl whining at her to help fix her pigtails, with no idea how she'd gotten there at all. Probably screaming when she learned where that baby had gotten her blonde hair and blue eyes from, and in increasing volume after learning who the father was. Total memory loss while she stared down at the ring, not unlike the scientist's own.

Nervously, feeling like someone had walked over her grave or whatever phrase her mother enjoyed using, she spun the plain gold band around on her finger. Now Bulma remembered him hopping into the bed, snuggling besides her like the little kid she'd once known, hair messy and _everywhere._ Even when she put the equipment down and tried patting the spikes downward. 'Maybe you aren't the best for advice. Have no idea how you even got me to go out with you, Goku.'

'Mm, you're the one to ask me out. Right? That's what happened?'

'…why do I still expect you to remember our anniversary again?'

'Dunno. But you asked me for dinner and got all touchy-feely and said we were dating and not to tell Yamcha, which I still don't get. So you started it.'

'Don't remind me.'

'Hey. But you're getting touchy-feely right now. So you're not mad?'

'I really would just like you to be quiet since I have a headache right now.'

'…but you're not mad? When you take your clothes off like that, it's like fifty-fifty.'

'I just want you to roll over and pretend to be mute.'

'Like a game? The ones you like to play? But this time, I don't get a cowboy hat, do I?'

Smiling at him, loving the span of broad chest. 'Maybe later. How about now I ride you with both of us bareback?'

'What? There's something on my back?'

'Just get over here.'

Chi-Chi was talking over Bulma's internal bittersweet memories. "Unless, well, you're thinking the police will get another subpoena for your call records again. Please don't make me go back to court as a material witness. I hate going to West City downtown."

"No, I, uh. Probably that's unnecessary."

"Oh no. What did you do?"

"Things got complicated. I got a little hot under the collar. Words were exchanged."

"Did you kick him out and he accidentally robbed another grocery store?"

"No, no." Bulma sighed. Best to just come out with it. "I called the cops on him."

"Because he wouldn't leave the backyard, even when you kicked him out of the house, meaning your entire property? Like before?"

"I—hey, I didn't say that exactly."

"I'm paraphrasing. But go on. What did you do?"

"What did_ he_ do, is the question you should be asking. Why does no one take my side?"

"So what did _he_ do? And how did you retaliate? Besides call the cops. What did they even arrest him for?"

Another long exhale. Bulma spoke in a flat monotone, as though reading off a list before her, (and a boring one at that) "Breaking and entering, trespassing, battery, assault, theft, vandalism."

"What? 'Battery'? What does that even mean?"

"I'm not suurrre exactly what that was about. I assume it ties into everything else."

"And he stole something?"

"There were parts in my lab missing. Maybe my mother moved them, maybe he took them, who's to say?"

"The 'assault'?"

"Sent some guards after him." Bulma dug around through a nearby drawer, for a pack of leftover cigarettes that her mom might have missed after she and Goku and the kids had gone on an anti-smoking crusade since the Saiyans and half-Saiyans couldn't stand the smell. And it was no fun having to fight with them over it, since her family would look at her with big eyes that were impossible to resist. "The guards here take theft very seriously, and attempted to bring him down for the cops."

"Oh no."

"Oh yes."

"Did they use the pepper spray?"

"Yes. Goku wants a bottle of it for his pizza, in the future."

"Those poor guards."

Ah, bingo. Bulma opened the crumbled package and pulled out a crooked cigarette. Held it up to her nose, like a cigar. Her sweets. "They'll be alright. In fact, the cops said that the clear signs of physical trauma and hospital receipts will only help my case."

"How did he 'break and enter?' Doesn't he live there?"

Now for a lighter. "Ah, but you forget about that restraining order that I got last year."

"Ohhh. When he and your mother and Master Roshi got way into their soaps, and refused to leave the living room?"

"Something had to be done, Chi-Chi. We all agreed on that."

"Sure. Sure."

"And I thought that it would lapse. I think…Or maybe I knew subconscious that it wouldn't? And it's not like Goku had any records to show he lives there. Not so much as a bill in his name. And he has no ID." Thank god she always kept a soldering iron close to the bed. "I'm sure my lawyer will say it's open and shut. If not for the fact that my husband is the accused. That might present difficulty."

"Are you even still married? I remember there were papers drawn up?"

They were stale as hell, yet the sweet burn of them in her throat and lungs was wonderful. "But never filed."

"Are you sure?"

How could she have gone so long without these things? "…no."

"The vandalism? You mentioned vandalism?"

"Remember when he found the spray paint cans?"

"Oh, now, to be fair, I thought those abstract experimental pieces were quite bold. Haunting, really. The way he used red…I had no idea he could be so artistic."

"Regardless of whether or not he's the next Salvador Dali—"

"Picasso, I would say, really."

"—Imagine his blue period. Anyway, he signed them using his name. And then admitted before the cops his name. And then admitted that he'd written them and thus proving he was in that lab at some point. Pinpointing the exact time might be difficult."

"That's good, right?"

Already, Bulma was burning down to the filter. "-if not for the security cameras that caught him entering the room at exactly five fifteen."

"Eech."

Where the hell where the damn ashtrays? "No, I would not want to be his lawyer. And let's not touch on the resisting arrest complaint that will definitely not help his case."

"I'm shocked that the police were able to take him away."

"I had to help with that. Told him they had to take him away, for dinner, and to hold him for a set amount of time before he could come back. Acted like it was a game. Which, in retrospect, might build a case for mental illness."

"You _can't _have him committed again."

"Au contraire."

"I mean, from a moral standpoint."

She ended up tapping the ashes onto the bed sheets. "…yeah. I know."

"What about the children? Do the_ children_ know?"

"Of course not. They probably think their father's training. I, well, I don't really want to talk to the _children_ right now."

"I just have to ask this: do you feel guilty, at all?"

"Of course, I nearly started crying in the dining room."

"And it wasn't because of all the pepper spray still possibly floating around?"

"Fair point. Seventy-thirty, genuine sadness and grief."

"I hate to sound like your mother, but are you okay, dear?"

"Hah, sure. Goku will get back soon enough, I mean, unless they charge him. And he actually listens to them and doesn't just break out."

"Worse case scenario, he gets sent to jail-serious jail-How long can they hold him?"

"Capsule Corp take these things very seriously. It makes sure to prosecute all offenders to the highest degree. And, if say they find a card on him for a rival company, others will get dragged in and he'll be held as a witness to that, as well."

"But they won't find that on him, right?"

"That," she lit another cigarette, "Now that depends on whether or not the guards searched him."

"I think Goku's going to hit his blue period very soon."

"Probably when he gets some gnarly prison tattoos done in pen ink."

"So, we're all going to have to go down there and act as material witnesses, huh?"

"Not sure. We'll see where things go. It might all get thrown out, if he and I are still legally married."

"You need to check on that, Bulma."

"Do courts send paper confirming divorces?"

"Maybe?"

"I suppose if they did, I might have missed it since Goku has more than once trampled and/or set fire to important paperwork and mail."

"Ironic."

"Really."

"But everyone knows that you two are married."

"And everyone knows about the fighting. Plus, we may be divorced. Common-law marriage might not be good enough. If marriage, in fact, will protect him at all."

"At least, maybe it will help with the breaking and entering thing?"

"See, even then, if there are tapes of me yelling at him and telling him to leave the lab, and then of him shrugging and wandering to the kitchen."

"Poor Goku. He really did think he was leaving, since the kitchen is so far from the labs."

"Not good enough, since it was still on Capsule Corp property."

"I'm worried a little about you two. I'm going to see this on the news, I know."

"Oh, I'm sure. Reporters went crazy when they saw Yamcha and Goku sparring, thinking they were fighting each other over me."

"Which you loved."

"I did. But I didn't appreciate him staying with you and Vegeta, and hearing a report, (in front of my kids, too) that he was cheating on me with you. 'Mysterious Woman Found With Capsule Exec Husband' and all that."

"I didn't care for that either. Or having to feed him. Or the way those cameramen trampled my garden."

"Sorry."

"I'm just glad you two fixed things up. That's what's going to happen right?"

"Oh, I'm sure. And thanks for making sure Vegeta isn't listening in on the line."

"Uh."

"Well, if he is, he's being very discreet. Which I appreciate. Especially from such a WEAK PATHETIC SAD LITTLE DWARF WITH AWFUL HAIR! Yeah. He's not listening."

"Isn't that sweet of him?"

"Chi-Chi, before I finish this cigarette, say goodbye and look for a nice suit to wear to the police station, and for Capsule Corp's lawyer's number, I have a question."

"I thought you stopped smoking?"

"Did you, as a small romantically inclined girl with dreams of ponies and big wedding and fancy dresses, ever imagine that you're version of a marriage include the concept that you would be proud that your husband did not listen in on you on the phone?"

"Bulma. I had no idea that any of this would happen. Sure, that one day I would be married and living close to my father with a strong husband and lovely children. But not that my husband would be an alien. Never that."

"And a prince. That's somewhat accurate to maybe what you wanted?. And badass."

"I didn't care so much for that, since my father married a 'commoner.' Just that he be strong and handsome, which I got. Besides, this prince doesn't have land and money.

"Admittedly, I did think I would marry someone taller."

"Funny. After Goku got all hot, I immediately wanted to date him and went for it pretty quickly."

"So he fit your dreams?"

"Did I have dreams? Did I? That seems so long ago."

"So overdramatic."

"But no, Goku definitely did not fit that bill. I think I wanted the prince."

"…do you want him? You can have him at meal times."

"Sure. He can't eat as much as my husband. We can trade off, you take Goku for meals and I'll take that grumpy bastard."

"It's a deal. Starting—I guess as soon as Goku leaves jail."

"Speaking of which, I need to get off and call that lawyer. Tell him…that it was a mixup. He was set up. The cops were corrupt. Sue 'em to pay to recover the damage Goku did."

"And, you know, tell your kids what you did."

"And that."

"I hope everything goes well for you."

"And you. You know, beet farming doesn't sound so bad right now."

"It really doesn't. You'll get Goku back, though, I'm sure."

"But do I want him back is the question? Did he learn his lesson?"

"You really can't involve others, especially the law, when teaching him 'lessons', Bulma."

"He never learns though, from me just yelling at him."

"Yell harder."

"I can only yell so hard."

"You need martial arts training. The increase of the size of the lungs from it can help."

"All I'm saying is, it takes external effects to change him in this marriage, not internal forces.

"I think it comes down to really wanting the marriage to work. And not necessarily because your friends want it to, what with all you guys acted like I was losing my mind when Vegeta and I got married."

She brushed away a sizable pile of ash from Goku's side of the bed. "True."

"You two have to decide that you want to work hard and that you belong together. And not even for the kids, really. It's between you two."

"You got so _wise_, dealing with Vegeta. Can't I just have him committed?"

A deep voice outfitted with a foreign accent muttered, "…yes."

"Huh? Vegeta?"

"I TOLD YOU TO STAY OFF THE PHONE!"

Bulma threw the last cigarette filter onto the bedside table, besides the others. "Okay, I'm calling it a night. I'm out of smokes, I have to sit the kids down and talk to them, again, while their Father isn't here, and I have to fix my hair for tomorrow."

"TOL D YOU A MILLION TIMES-Talk to you later, Bulma."

"Bye." There was a click as the scientist hung up and left the other two behind still on the line.

"And as FOR YOU! YOU THINK YOU HAVE ANY RIGHT TO LISTEN TO OTHERS PRIVATE CONVERSTATIONS!"

"It wasn't as though you and the blue woman had anything important to say. Although, I do hope she has Kakarotte sent to human jails more often."

"I'm sure you do! You just love it when his wife is angry at him."

"Who doesn't?"

"Only a sadist would enjoy their suffering! Even Juuhachigou stopped finding it stories of their fighting amusing, and this was before she lived with Krillin and mellowed out.

"Well, mellowed out_ more_. I still remember that time at Capsule Corp when she got bored and just started wrestling with Krillin."

"That poor runt didn't have a chance to defeat himself.

"And I hope you haven't forgotten about the arm wrestling. Hah. And she nearly beat you."

"I let her! Because you told me to be polite!"

"I'll be a good wife and give you the benefit of the doubt."

"As it should be. Just as I make no comments on your cooking."

"How dare you!"

"The blood pudding, woman. The blood pudding."

"You said you wanted to try it."

"I did. It was hideous."

"I'll never make it again then. That's all you had to say."

"I did. I said it right before you forced a mouthful of it into my face."

"I worked hard on that, Vegeta!"

"Goten, what do you need-No, I will not read you a 'bed time story;' go to your mother. Right now."

"No! You put the baby to bed."

"Too late. He's heading your way. Slowly. Eventually. Damn, Goten, now you decide to be clumsy and fall down? Don't cry."

"He's crying. Oooh. He's crying! I can hear it all the way in this room-"

"Because of the phone line."

"-Would you help him?"

You could hear him grappling to hold the phone with one hand, since he refused to tuck it between his shoulder and jaw. "Fine. Come here. Get up. Wipe your face."

"You know," Chi-Chi told the phone. "For all I complain about you, at least you're around. At least you're not like Goku."

"Yes." From the sound, it seemed that Goten was squashed under Vegeta's chin. "And at least you're not as psychotic as the blue-haired woman."


End file.
